Strings of Fate
by Nancepance
Summary: Short vignette for AWE, because I felt like Jack deserved some noodling time on his Teague's guitar too.


**Strings of Fate**

 _ **Author's note:**_ ** _  
 _Short vignette from AWE, because I felt like Jack deserved some noodling time on his dad's guitar too. This is my first story for this fandom, so please read and review. I hope I captured their characters in a realistic manner. From a reader's point of view, please let me know it's too sappy, or maybe not emotional enough.__** _  
_"Talk" _  
 _"Memory Talk"_  
 _'Thoughts'__

Softly strummed notes float along the darkened corridors of shipwreck cove, conveying the feelings of the song's author in a way that's as hauntingly beautiful as it is broken. Heaving a weary sigh, the old pirate captain gets up from his seat and softly makes his way towards the origin of said sad song. Only one pirate would be brave, or stupid enough to touch Teague's most beloved guitar.  
The melancholic melody is pulling painfully on his heartstrings and he pauses near the entranceway. Silently rounding the corner, his eyes fall onto Jack lazing about almost bonelessly in Teague's chair, with one leg thrown carelessly over the armrest and the other foot resting on the wooden floor. With a huff, the older captain releases the breath he'd subconsciously been holding and leans heavily against the door jamb.

A heavy weight had been lifted from his heart when he saw the Pearl entering the cove with Jack at the helm. Teague rubs his weathered face, the crosses tied into his hair clinking with the movement. The news of Jack's death had hit him harder than he had imagined it would. The pirate life is a harsh one and death is too a way of living and every pirate knows this.  
 _"Cuttlefish…"_ _  
_Teague smiles wryly to himself. His Jackie always had a way with words, even when they got him into more trouble than he could possibly dig himself out of. And this time, not even Jack Sparrow's famous good fortune could have kept him from that horrible fate. His debts were too steep and the price far too high.

Jack has a faraway look in his dark, kohl rimmed eyes as he plays the guitar, his grubby fingers deftly moving along the strings with practiced ease. The candles cast a soft glow on the younger man's face, making him look younger than his years, enhancing the sadness that clings to the boy like a second skin. Teague's scruffy dog is laying on the floor at the foot of the chair. The dog pricks his ears at seeing its master, but refrains from getting up to greet him like he normally would. Instead he lays his head down on Jacks booted foot with a deep sigh. Teague hears Jack murmur something under his breath, but is uncertain if it's addressed to the animal or if the boy is talking to himself.

 _"What? Ye've seen it all, done it all._ ** _You_** _survived! That's the trick, innit? To survive?"_  
Teague shakes his head, fingering the beads braided into his beard. _'Is it?'_ He had heard the slightly desperate tone in his son's voice. Seen the look in his dark eyes that belied the easy-going attitude he displayed towards the brethren. The hushed statements and restless glances when he thought himself alone. It seems like the touch of brilliant madness that had always hung around him had grown into something more substantial, something far more real and scary.  
He watches Jack play, noticing the way the younger pirate expertly works around the missing string, not missing a single beat. A broken melody… If only the boy could be fixed as easily as the guitar.  
 _"It's not just about living forever, Jackie. The trick is living with yerself forever."_ Immortality… Suddenly, something that feels suspiciously like fear seizes his heart and he speaks before he can stop himself.

"Ye be all right Jackie."

Teague's rough deep voice shatters the younger captain's quiet contemplation and Jack's left hand involuntarily tightens around the neck of the guitar effectively silencing the instrument. He hadn't noticed his father entering the room, a potentially deadly mistake had it been anyone else. Jack doesn't dare look up from the guitar held lovingly in his calloused hands. Only Teague could make a statement sound like a question and he knows his father's tone of voice by heart. He heard it often enough when he was younger. Jack grimaces and swallows thickly. The truth… _'He wants to hear the truth eh?'_ He closes his eyes, not sure if he is ready to face said horrible truth. The truth is that the locker had taken from him, far more than he is inclined to admit to. Self-doubt and fear had entered his mind and his course seemed uncertain at best.

 _"You are a good man, Jack Sparrow."_ Jack scoffs looking at the spinning dial of the magical compass, sitting innocently on the chest doubling as a side table. A good man, for rowing back to the ship, letting himself be chained to the bloody mast and be mauled by the Kraken… He shivers. What a ghastly way to shuffle of your mortal coil that is. He debates lying about his state of mind, but he knows his father would not be fooled. He always had been a horrible liar. Jack squeezes his eyes shut. Every night, he's being assaulted by vivid memories of the Kraken's sharp teeth ripping apart his body and it's taking its toll on both his mind and his soul. He swallows again, struggling to get any sound past his constricted throat.

"No…"

Jack's deep voice is barely audible in the silent room. Teague had never seen his son so still. Even as a young boy he was always moving, scheming, bartering. Now, there are no theatrical movements, no fancy stories being spun as Jack silently fingers the broken string. Pure painful honesty… The dog feels the shift in the younger captain and lays his head on Jack's knee in silent support, looking up with soulful brown eyes. Teague watches the emotions flit over his son's face. Now the boy's walls were down, he could read him like a book. Jackie had always believed in the good of people, always had been a dreamer. Life had taught him a harsh lesson and he had learned to shield himself. But underneath the facade of the illustrious Captain Jack Sparrow, there still had been the boy with a dream. The young man that bested the Matador del Mar and found the cursed treasure of Cortez. He just hoped his time in the locker hadn't broken that spirit.

With a shuddering breath, Jack releases the death grip he has on the neck of the guitar to scratch the animal's head, viciously shoving the memory to the back of his mind where it belongs, thank you very much. No, of course he's not all right! His lip curls in disgust. Ignoring his current… "aliveness", that damn honest streak of his, had cost him his life and his damn ship. _'Again…!'_ One of the other Jacks, supplies helpfully. Jack rolls his eyes at the figment of his imagination and scoffs. Not the mention his sanity! Provided he was sane to begin with of course. He glances at two Jack's braiding each other's hair and... giggling...? Jack rubs his eyes, groaning beneath his breath. _'Guess the court is still out on that one.'_

 _"You want to know what it tastes like."_ He starts strumming the chords to the pirate song, thinking about golden haired murderesses and eunuchy whelps. Sanity be damned, he **_had_** wanted to know what it tasted like. What it is like to be a good man...  
 _"One word, curiosity..."_ Jack smirks, the candlelight glinting off his gold-capped teeth. Aye, that, he still had in bounds. The insatiable curiosity to explore the world, no matter how seemingly small it had become. And after tomorrow, he would have all the time in the world. His shoulders relax as does his grip on the guitar. Jack glances up at his father, noticing for the first time, the lines of worry on the old man's face.

"But I will be."

Jack smiles at the older man, feeling lighter than he had since his return to the land of the living. He sits up, the guitar momentarily forgotten on his lap, the sudden movement sends the dog trotting happily towards its master. Jack's hands are once again moving in their hypnotizing way as if painting a scene.  
"Curiosity..." He winks cheekily at his father and lifts a bottle of rum to his lips, taking a swig before offering it to his father. Teague looks at his son with narrowed eyes before nodding.  
"Aye, curiosity." He takes the proffered bottle from Jack and points at the guitar. "Ye owe me a new string boy."  
"Pish posh." Jack waves his filthy hands dismissively. He gets up from the chair with a drunken flourish, quickly snatching his compass from the chest. "I owe **_everyone_** something or the other…" he drawls.  
"Jackie!" Teague growls, pointing the bottle at the younger captain. "Don't make me come after ye." While edging towards the open door, Jack grins widely, palms open.  
"Ye have to catch me first." Teague takes threatening a step closer to the retreating pirate. Undeterred by the action, Jack bows with a flourish. "Dear dad," His voice gains a dramatic quality, "you will always remember this day as the day that you almost caught the great, the illustrious…" The empty rum bottle smashes violently against the wall near his head and Jack squeaks. Beating a hasty retreat into the darkened hallway he calls over his shoulder: "Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Teague lowers his arm and seats himself in his nicely warmed up chair. Picking up the guitar he starts strumming it, as undeterred by the missing string as Jack was. Shaking his head with a smile, he glances towards the door where his son had escaped through. His dark eyes turn thoughtful. Surviving is not the same as living, but so far, he himself had survived and so had Jack. He just hoped the boy would be sensible tomorrow and decide he wants to live, not just exist. If not, Teague would be there to pick up the pieces.


End file.
